


Love and Death and Pancakes in Partridge, Minnesota

by Nutriyum_Addict



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Loss of Parent(s), Oral Sex, Reconciliation, Sex, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 01:04:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11658375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nutriyum_Addict/pseuds/Nutriyum_Addict
Summary: During their break-up, not long after Leslie'swaving his decapitated head on a stick in front of his weeping motheroutburst, Ben's dad dies unexpectedly.So of course, it's completely logical for her to rush off to Minnesota to make sure Ben is okay. While there, she meets the Wyatts and she and Ben start to find a tentative road back into one another's lives.Hint: It's down the sexytimes scenic highway.Warning: Implied minor character death.





	Love and Death and Pancakes in Partridge, Minnesota

On the way to the City Manager's office for the monthly budget meeting Monday morning, Leslie looks down at her planner again, specifically at her most recent notes. The last of Pawnee's phone booths are scheduled to be removed in the next week, leaving a prime space of exactly .000003 square miles.

What if she made it into a park? The tiniest and cutest park in all of the Midwest!

Well, she's still working on the official name, but the thought of a new Parks project is already starting to make her a little giddy. This is going to be a great day, she can feel it already. And now she's on her way to a meeting with Chris and Ben and she'll get to see him and be in the same room with him for at least an hour.

"Leslie Knope," Chris greets her from his office door. "Did you not get my email?

"Huh, no. Sorry, I've been working on a new project and--"

"Well, I'm afraid we've had to reschedule our budget meeting until the beginning of next week."

"Oh. Why?" She closes her planner and looks around and yeah, there's no one here except for her and Chris in the empty office.

Chris's face takes on a somber expression. "Sadly, Ben Wyatt had to fly home to Partridge, Minnesota unexpectedly for a family emergency. His dad died late last night. A heart attack."

She feels her eyes widen and her mouth fall open slightly. _What?_   "Oh my god. Is Ben okay?"

"I talked to him this morning on the phone, but he sounded...like it hadn't really hit him yet. But if you want, I can take a look at your planning numbers and give you some feedback before next week's--"

"I've got to go!"

"Oh?" Chris looks puzzled. "Go where?"

"Home. I've got to go home. I think I left my oven on," she starts down the hall, rushing in the direction of her office for her purse and her keys. "And the tub is running. Water everywhere! It's a mess and I have to go check on--ow! Councilman Howser! Sorry! Sorry, Chris!"

* * * * *

By 11 AM, Leslie has a reservation for a flight out of Indy and she's trying to quickly pack a carry on bag, all while Ann sits on her bed and watches.

"It's not a big deal," Leslie explains again. "I'm just going to drive to the airport in Indianapolis, park my car in the long term lot, fly to Minneapolis, then rent a car, drive to Partridge, and try to find his sister's house. I'll be there in about five and a half hours. _Easy-peasy._ "

"Leslie," Ann starts and she's giving her a look, that if Leslie really wanted to pay attention to her best friend's facial cues, would tell her that Ann was a bit skeptical of her plan. But she's ignoring that, so who knows what's on beautiful Ann's mind.

"What? Oh, you're right, I should probably pack a book for the plane," Leslie says quickly, grabbing her partially-read copy of _The Time Traveler's Optometrist_ from the shelf.

"No. What I'm saying is that you and Ben broke up a few months ago. And things have been sort of weird between you lately. Maybe you shouldn't fly off to Minnesota and surprise him like this. After his dad just died."

 _Weird?_ Leslie thinks. How? Sure, the model UN event last week was slightly testy and not ideal, but she wouldn't call it _weird_. Plus, they'd kind of fixed that and agreed to a fun, five-minute conversation at work, which has been going...sort of okay.

But really, none of that matters right now because she's so worried about him. Plus, she knows how much he hates going back to Partridge because of the whole teen mayor thing, and she definitely knows what it's like to lose a father. It's a crappy club to become a member of and she hates that Ben is now an inductee.

"Ann, I'm not trying to surprise him. His dad died. I'm just trying to help. I know how this feels and it feels... _awful_."

Her friend's expression softens considerably at that.

Leslie tries to get her simmering emotions under control and continues, "I'm not trying to force anything. I care about him and I want to be with him right now. Or at least, I want him to know that I care and that if he wants my help and wants me to be there, I want to be there for him and...and..." she finds herself not quite able to continue because she's crying.

When did she start crying?

"He's my _friend_ ," Leslie finishes with a loud sniffle, as if that's the only required explanation, hastily rolling up a black skirt and throwing it in her bag. "And he's hurting right now and I want to be there, Ann. I need to be there."

"Okay," Ann agrees, pulling Leslie into a hug. "You should probably go to Minnesota then."

* * * *

About six hours later, she's standing on a porch, crossing her fingers that this is the right house. Her earlier Altavista search for a Stephanie Wyatt in Partridge led her to the online white pages, which led her here: 392 Morningbrook Lane.

It's chilly enough to wear her red wool coat and she finds herself wishing she even had a hat as well.

If this isn't the right house, Leslie figures she'll head into the cafe she passed on the way into town and see if anyone there knows where Ben's sister lives. But, she doesn't even have to get much farther in her backup strategy because the door opens, and there he is—her ex-boyfriend standing right in front of her in a plaid shirt and a pair of dark gray pants.

He looks sad and tired and a little surprised to see her. It's also so strange to see Ben, _her Pawnee Ben_ , standing here in a doorway in Minnesota. It seems all wrong, even though it's where he originally came from.

"Leslie? What are--"

"Hi. I'm so sorry. Chris said your dad died this morning in the budget meeting. I mean, that's when he said it, your dad didn't die _in_ the meeting. Oh god, of course, you know that. Anyway, Chris said you flew home and I couldn't stop thinking about you and I had to come see you. So here I am. Are you okay?"

He stares at her for what feels like an eternity before he pulls her inside.

"You just left work this morning and came here? To see if I was okay?"

"Yeah. To be with you. What can I do to help? I want to help. I promise I'm not being selfish or obtuse or trying to force you to spend time with me or anything," she says in a rush. "I just want to help, Ben. I don't want you to be alone."

He continues to stare at her and then finally cranes his neck towards the living room, before he tugs her in the opposite direction and up the stairs.

The room they end up in is full of posters and sports gear. There's a Lego set (some kind of spaceship?) in the corner and the sheets have a baseball pattern on them. For a moment she's confused—if this is his sister's house, how could this be Ben's childhood bedroom?—but he explains that it's his nephew's room and that he's staying in here while Sam is at his dad's house across town.

"How are you doing?" She asks, putting her small travel bag and purse down on the dresser.

Ben sighs, apparently deciding to just accept that she's here and roll with it. "I don't know. It doesn't seem real yet."

"Yeah," Leslie agrees.

They're still standing only inches apart, where they both stopped when they entered the room after Ben shut the door behind them. She's reluctant to move away, so she stays planted where she is. Ben doesn't make any effort to move away from her either.

"Do people at work know where you are?"

"Ann does. Ron might suspect. But no one else. I don't care."

"Leslie. I care. You can't just--"

"Yes, I can. I did. I'm here. If you want me to go, I will. But--"

"I don't want you to go," Ben says softly. "But this is kind of unfair."

Leslie frowns at that. "How?"

"Because I feel like I'm not in a great place for making sensible decisions...about _things_."

She studies him and draws on her own recent experience, even if she did kind of lose her mind at the time. "Maybe when it feels like the world's ending, maybe that's the best time to make decisions because how you feel then is how you _really_ feel. But anyway, you don't have to make any decisions about anything. You just have to let me help you."

Ben laughs briefly at her order but is the first one to break eye contact.

"The last time I actually talked to my dad was on his birthday, a couple of months ago. That's what we did." He finally moves away from her to go sit on the bed. He shrugs sadly. "We called on birthdays and holidays. Emailed."

Her first impulse is to ask him questions about his feelings, to talk about her feelings, to jump right in and try to make him feel better. But she reigns all that in and instead, Leslie sits down next to him and just listens while he speaks. Their thighs are touching and she also tries not to think about how good that feels since this is about Ben and not her.

"I mean, we didn't have a bad relationship, but it wasn't particularly good. Or close. I was distant. He was distant. After the mayor thing fell apart, I left for college. I couldn't get out of here fast enough. I guess I always figured there'd be time for that. You know, to get closer. He'd mellow out as he got older and we'd..." Ben trails off, staring at a NASA poster on the wall.

"I'm so sorry."

He nods and his face kind of twists up like he's trying really hard not to cry in front of her. She takes his hand. She wants to let him know it's okay, that he can cry or yell or do whatever makes him feel better.

"I always figured I'd get married one day and maybe have kids and he'd teach me how to make the secret pancakes with the bananas and the peanut butter for them and now, that's all just..."

"Ben, I'm so sorry."

"That's probably not going to happen. Because he's dead," he finishes softly.

"No," she agrees. "And it's not fair."

Ben chokes back a sob. "I don't know what--"

"It's okay," she pulls him closer and then they're hugging while he cries and Ben is gripping onto her like he's lost at sea and she's his life preserver.

Leslie has always been very active in bed and sometimes a lighthearted and playful struggle for the top was the result, but right now, in his nephew's bedroom, she's passive. She lets Ben move her and touch her how he needs to. It's not aggressive or rough or anything like that, but when he pushes his hand down her pants with surprisingly urgency, he does it without even breaking the kiss.

His tears are getting her face wet as she helps him get her pants fully undone, so he can move her panties out of the way and press his palm against her and slide his finger right inside.

All the times they've had sex before, it's usually started slow. It was all small kisses and teasing fingertips and then soft, wet, and greedy tongues. But now, within a minute or two, her pants are off and her panties are down around her ankles, Ben's unzipping his pants as he sucks on the tender skin of her neck.

She moans when he adds a second finger and slides them around where she's already getting so wet for him, for this thing that's happening so quickly and desperately between them. Leslie shoves her tongue against his. They almost fall off the bed before he gets inside but then he's gripping at her hips, keeping her in place while he thrusts in deep. She's so aroused that he moves within her effortlessly right from the start.

Ben comes with a loud groan that he tries to muffle against her shoulder.

It's quick and afterwards, there is cuddling. Maybe it's because the bed is so small that there's just nowhere else to go, but she's lying mostly on top of him, his fingers softly running up and down her arm.

He kisses the side of her head, letting out a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not."

Ben groans at that. "But what does this mean? I can't even process what--"

"It means that I care about you. And that I'm here. And we don't have to figure out exactly what this means right this very second, do we?"

"What about your campaign? How can you be here while you're supposed to be doing campaign things?" His eyes are dark and full of concern, not quite willing to let it go yet even if he's still rubbing her arm with affectionate, feather light touches.

"I told my advisors that I had a personal emergency and I had to leave town for a few days."

Finally, Ben gives her a weak smile and starts to pull his pants back up. He doesn't bother to tuck in his shirt. "Do you want to go downstairs and meet my family?"

* * * * *

"Hey. This is Leslie. She's my...um, _good friend_. From Pawnee," Ben says a few minutes later, leading her to a kitchen table where two people are already sitting, a bottle of tequila open between them. "Leslie, this is my older brother Henry and my little sister Stephanie."

Leslie thinks there's a glance that passes between Henry and Ben during the introductions, but she can't be sure.

"Hi," Leslie blurts out, suddenly at a loss for words. She hadn't thought much beyond _find Ben, hug Ben, make sure Ben is okay_ and here she is meeting his siblings. "I'm very sorry about your father," she manages, a bit awkwardly but it's completely heartfelt and sincere.

"Thanks," both Wyatts answer almost in sync, Stephanie gesturing to the two remaining white chairs at the table.

Ben pulls one out for her. They both sit and then it's quiet for a few minutes, before Henry gets up to rummage around for a couple more glasses.

"Mom is coming over later. So are Aunt Janet and Tony. Frank and June and that side of the family are driving out tomorrow morning," Stephanie tells Ben, picking up a banana from the bowl of fruit on the table but then setting it back down again. "Also, did you know dad had a new girlfriend? Her name is _Ulana_ or _Ulani_ or _Lulu_ or something like that. So, be prepared for that to be a thing Wednesday."

Ben groans. "Great. Well, it really wouldn't be a Wyatt family function without some kind of drama. Why should a funeral be any exception."

Stephanie nods and downs the last of the tequila in her glass, while Henry texts something on his phone and then puts it away. "Meghan and Georgia are going to stay put at home. The logistics are proving to be too daunting."

"They just had a baby," Ben explains, pouring him and Leslie some tequila.

"Oh, right. I knew that. Congratulations," Leslie offers.

"Thanks," Ben's brother manages a small smile, followed by a roll of his eyes. "Circle of life and all that. I came out this morning like Benji, but we weren't sure if they were going to come out later, but it turns out a fussy four-month-old is a challenging travel accessory. So, I'm just going to head back right after the funeral."

Stephanie nods. "That works. You too, Ben. It's not like there's going to be a lot to do here. Apparently, the girlfriend is going to handle going through his place. Because they were living together. Who knew? You should head back Thursday morning too if you want."

"We'll see," he mumbles without much commitment.

"So," Stephanie continues, looking between Leslie and Ben. "Are we talking the kind of _good friend_ that needs a pillow and a blanket for the extra couch tonight?" Stephanie pauses, before adding, "Or the kind of _good friend_ that shares a twin bed?"

Ben looks at her for a brief moment and she quickly finds his hand under the table and gives it a squeeze. She hopes it conveys that she's fine with either, that she's just here for him in whatever capacity he needs her in.

"The kind that shares a twin bed," Ben finally confirms, squeezing her fingers back.

Henry laughs and holds his shot glass up. "To twin bed buddies."

"My ex-husband is one of those every so often," Stephanie says, clicking her glass to Ben's, Leslie's, and then to Henry's. "Well, figuratively. We don't literally use a twin bed and definitely not our son's. But mostly, my ex is just a dick."

"To dicks," Henry adds with a smirk.

"To dad," Stephanie finishes, refilling everyone's glass.

* * * *

An hour later, Leslie is kind of drunk and helping Stephanie (also kind of drunk) put together some salads. Apparently, Ben's mom is on some kind of "ridiculous raw diet now."

"What's that?" Ben asks, coming up behind her and looking at the bowl on the counter in front of her. He puts his chin on her shoulder and his hand on her waist and peers down, like it's a completely natural thing for him to do.

"Grated carrots, lemon juice, olive oil, and parsley."

"Um, why?"

"To eat. For everyone. Well, because your mom likes salad," she tells him as if that's a totally reasonable explanation for salad.

Ben is still frowning when Leslie turns around.

"Okay, but what are you going to eat?"

Leslie waves him off. "It's fine."

"Leslie, it's a... _salad_."

"What's wrong?" Stephanie asks, pulling some chopped kale and tomatoes out of the fridge. Leslie groans internally. Ugh. Kale. Her nemesis.

"Are we making people just eat salads tonight?" Ben asks.

"Is that a problem?"

"I think it's fine! I love salad! It's my favorite food!" Leslie says quickly before Stephanie can ask any more questions and Ben can make a big deal out of the dinner situation.

The last thing she wants to do is make more work for anyone. To prove her point, she takes a big spoonful of the grated carrots and lemon juice and...oh god, it's awful. So, so awful that she has absolutely no choice but to turn and spit it out in the sink. She runs the water to wash it away.

"Sorry, I'm so sorry. Carrots are really disgusting. It's okay. I have emergency s'mores rations in my purse. It's not a--"

"Is that place still around the corner? The one with the turkey things? On the bread?" Ben interrupts, still making a face at the big bowl of carrots.

"You mean the _turkey sandwich_ place?" Stephanie asks, her eyebrow raised. "Yeah. Okay. That's probably not a bad idea."

"Alright," he takes Leslie's hand. "We're going to walk down there and pick up some sandwiches to go along with all these salads. We'll be back in a bit."

* * * * *

On the way, Ben leads her through a quick tour of the town--the lake where he and his friend Jack used to fish in the summer. The City Hall steps where he was inaugurated as mayor at eighteen. The street where the town mascot, Fred the Sled (their mascot is a sled?) leads the winter parade every January.

Still holding her hand, Ben walks her by the house where he grew up.

It's big and rambling, large enough for a family with three kids. After the divorce, they stayed there with his mom while his dad moved to an apartment across town. It was only two bedrooms, so when they visited, all three kids had to share a room.

"That sounds cozy."

Ben smirks. "That's one word for it. Eventually, Henry started sleeping on the couch. Or just not going at all."

"Hmmm." She's still got a warm and pleasant buzz that makes the chilly evening walk feel refreshing. "By the way, thank you for letting me be here, for not pushing me away."

"Well, can I tell you a secret? I'm going to assume I can since we just had four shots of tequila. Ann texted me to warn me that you were on your way."

"She what?" Leslie stops and turns to face him. "When? Ann Perkins? _My Ann_?"

"Yeah. Your Ann. This morning. She said you were coming to Partridge and that she couldn't talk you out of it and that I should probably just let you help."

"Oh, Ann, you glorious, devious bastard."

Ben nods. "So, I had a little time to get used to the idea of you being here. Before you actually showed up at my sister's door."

They've started walking again and Leslie sees the sandwich shop—it's called The Turkey Sandwich Place.

"That _is_ why I'm here, Ben. I just want to help. I know how this feels."

"Yeah," he agrees quietly, getting the door for them. "I know you do."

They order eight sandwiches to go and they have to sit and wait a few minutes for the food. Prince's _Kiss_ is playing on the jukebox and there's ice hockey on TV. It's exactly what Leslie imagined Minnesota would be like.

"Hey, _ice clown,_ here's your order," the man behind the cash register yells out a bit later, placing a large white take-out bag out on the counter.

"What did you say?" She frowns, standing up quickly.

"Leslie, it's fine. That's me. Ice Clown. And I lost my town crown a long time ago. It's no big deal."

"No, it's not fine and it is a big deal," she turns back to address the sandwich place's employee. "Ben is not an ice clown! He cared about Partridge and he tried to make it better! And it was a long time ago and you shouldn't still be so hung up on it. He's only back in Partridge because his father died! And you're being a major buttface right now. Screw you, turkey sandwich place man, Ben Wyatt is too good for Partridge! And a sled is a stupid mascot!"

"What did you say about Fred the Sled?" The large man starts untying his apron and moving towards them.

"Run!" Ben yells taking her hand tightly and grabbing the bag from the counter. "Run!"

* * * * *

After they get back to Stephanie's and she calms down a bit, Leslie learns that Ben's mom is nice and that yeah, the place around the corner makes great turkey sandwiches, even if the cashier is a huge jerk.

Julia Wyatt stays over for a couple of hours and reminisces and helps her kids figure out the day tomorrow, all while ignoring the salads. Instead, she has three glasses of chardonnay and a sandwich, before heading back to her condo a few minutes' away.

Later, after she's changed for bed, Leslie checks her phone and sees a text from Ann, so she responds right away.

     Ann: _Did you get settled?_

     Leslie: _Yeah. I'm here, sparkling moonbeam!_

She doesn't have to wait long for Ann's reply.

     Ann: _Good_. S _o you found a motel in Partridge?_

Her original plan was to check on Ben and then find a place to stay nearby. She debates about how much to tell Ann about her current location—in Ben's bed.

     Leslie: _Something like that! :)_

Ann _: Leslie? Where are you staying?_

     Leslie: _Stephanie's house. Oh, and I know you told Ben I was coming. I forgive you.  
_

Leslie: _And I also know it was just because you were looking out for him and you're a kind and caring ladybug._

     Ann: _Just remember that Ben is really vulnerable right now and you should be careful with everything._

Leslie _: I know!_ _I'm being careful! So careful!!!_

     Ann: _You already had sex, didn't you?_

     Leslie: _Goodnight Ann! I love you! You're the best friend in the whole wide world! XXXOOO <3 <3 <3_

"It's so weird being back here," Ben tells her a few minutes later after he shuts the bedroom door behind him.

He's wearing striped pajama pants and a dark blue t-shirt. It looks like he might have taken a shower too. Maybe she should go do that...it has been a long day.

"Even if I didn't grow up in this house, just being back in Partridge is...I don't know." He makes a face and rolls his shoulders.

'How long has it been since you've been home to visit?"

Ben shrugs. "Five years? Yeah, I think five years. I came out for Christmas not too long ago. Based on the earlier situation picking up dinner, you can see why I avoid it here. Thanks for saying all that, by the way. That was sweet. And he was huge."

Leslie nods from her spot on the bed. "It was the truth."

When she had packed, she had no idea that she'd actually be sleeping with Ben, so she's just in a white camisole and some sleep shorts. She pulls the sheet up a bit when she notices that her nipples are clearly visible under the thin cotton.

"I can um, go sleep on the couch if you want."

"Ben, no. This is your bed. If you don't want to sleep together, I can go sleep--"

"No, I don't mind, if you don't. You pulled the sheet up so I wasn't sure if you were having second thoughts about this arrangement."

Leslie shakes her head and lets the sheet fall back down. "Sorry. I just don't know how to act right now. It's fine. Of course, it's fine. You've seen everything before. My nipples are not new to you."

Ben gives her a small smile and a nod.

Earlier when they'd had sex, she didn't even take her shirt off. He didn't even touch her breasts. He just kissed her senseless and fucked her hard. Honestly, it was surprising how sexy it was. How primal and intense.

The bed squeaks a little when he sits down now. It must have squeaked earlier too when they were having sex, but she didn't even notice it at the time.

"This is going to be a tight fit. Are you okay with snuggling?"

"Well, I suppose if we have to," Leslie responds.

"Yeah, I know. _Snuggling is the worst_ ," Ben deadpans.

"How are you doing?"

He nods his head against their shared pillow. "I think it's still sinking in. But, I'm glad you're here. And thankfully, I don't feel super drunk anymore because it all really starts tomorrow."

After a little maneuvering, Ben rolls them on their sides, so he can spoon around her.

"So earlier?" he asks, his mouth so close to the side of her head that she can feel his breath. "Um, when you first got here and we came up here. You wanted to do that, right?"

She turns to face him. "The sex?"

"Yeah," Ben is staring at her intently. "It was really fast and it just sort of happened and--"

"I wanted to do that," she assures him. "And if I didn't, I would have told you to stop."

He looks relieved. "Good. It was...Yeah. I mean, I was really upset and I wanted you so much and I'm not sure how enjoyable it was for you and I apologize if it wasn't that _great_."

She didn't have an orgasm, but Leslie doesn't really care about that. It was definitely still enjoyable. "I liked it."

"But you didn't come."

Can't get anything past him, she thinks. For a second she considers lying, but she decides against it. "No."

Ben's hand is resting on her hip and he gives her a gentle squeeze. "I could go down on you."

Even though she's here for him and it's not about her, Leslie's stomach drops at his suggestion. Just the thought of his tongue brushing between her thighs makes her want to moan out loud and her insides clench.

But still, she should be strong. Her mission here does not necessarily include being on the receiving end of Ben's oral skills. "You don't have to. You know, Ben, you're very vulnerable right now and--"

He rolls his eyes. "Stop. I want to. I want to make you come and I want to feel you when you do. I've missed that so much."

" _Mmmmhmmm_."

His hands are slowly tugging at the shorts, teasing her slowly. "I also want to pull your shirt up and lick your nipples. Because when I do that, you whimper. At least you used to."

" _Bennnnn_."

"Is that a yes?"

She considers it for the briefest of seconds. "Yes."

"Oh, thank god."

True to his word, he tugs her top up, the material bunching up by the tops of her breasts. He flicks his tongue against one nipple experimentally, smiling when she makes a noise. While he does that, his hand slides inside her underwear. This time he's slow and paying a lot of attention. Ben plays with her clit lightly before he pushes a finger inside, his thumb now teasing her lightly. She sucks in a sharp breath when he kisses down her stomach. And when he nips near her belly button, she feels his grin against her skin as she squirms.

He knows she's ticklish there.

"I've been traveling all day. I could jump in the shower real quick."

Ben's head pops up, even as he pulls her shorts and panties down. "You could, but there's no reason to. Just take a shower tomorrow."

His palms are on the insides of her thighs now, spreading them apart. He places a kiss near the crease of her thigh, then does the same on the other side. He brushes the tip of his tongue softly over her clit and she moans.

"Put your legs over my shoulders."

 She does.

* * * * *

"Good morning. My dad's still dead."

Leslie sits up and unselfconsciously lets the comforter fall to her waist. They're both naked and she kisses Ben's cheek before putting her arms around him. She checks the clock, it's seven AM. "I know it might not feel like it right now, but you're going to make it through this."

She watches him close his eyes and rub his forehead. "There's a visitation tonight and the funeral is tomorrow. I think we have to go finalize arrangements this morning. Drop his suit off and...I don't even know what else. Steph probably knows, I'm sure she told us last night, but I can't remember. Sometimes it's hard to believe that she's the youngest. And that she's got the highest alcohol tolerance."

"I can help with whatever you guys need today. Just give me a list and I can do it."

A few minutes later, Leslie is about to do _him_.

She's straddling his lap, while his cock is standing up at attention. He's licking and nibbling the skin between her breasts before she positions herself and sinks down, pushing him deep inside.

* * * * *

Over the next two days, Leslie learns a lot about Steve Wyatt and the whole Wyatt clan.

There were indeed secret banana and peanut butter pancakes that were made some mornings when the kids would visit their dad as his place. She also learns that Ben's father was a gruff and sometimes _terrifying_ man that loved his kids but maybe had trouble showing it on occasion. There are photos and stories. Henry lets her in on a secret of his own —Ben thinks he's allergic to shellfish, but he's really not. It's just an elaborate prank that Henry's managed to keep going since they were kids.

Leslie learns that the divorce between Steve and Julia Wyatt was ugly and toxic, and although it happened over thirty years ago, that there are still ongoing repercussions today. There's a family lake cabin that the two were fighting about just last week.

And yeah, at the time of his death, Steve had a twenty-six-year-old girlfriend named Ulani. In fact, if the rumor is to be believed, he might have even had the heart attack while, _being_ _amorous_ with his much younger girlfriend.

After the service, the girlfriend in question approaches Leslie and Ben, while they stand outside in the churchyard. She has a paper shopping bag and she hands it to Ben.

"This was in Steve's desk drawer. It's you...from when you were mayor or whatever."

"What?" Ben looks inside and takes out a large file folder. It's filled with clippings and photos from Ben's short-lived career in politics. "He kept all this?"

The woman shrugs. Her eyes are all red and swollen and it looks like she's been crying a lot. "I found it in his drawer. I thought you'd want it."

"Thank you. Really. I--"

"It's not a big deal. It's yours now. And for the record, I don't have a problem with you guys coming over and going through your father's things. Just not all at once. And not your mom. She's mean to me."

"Sorry," Ben choked out. "This is hard for her. I'm sure it's hard for you, too."

"Hmmm," Ulani narrows her eyes. "Did Steve even tell you about me?"

Ben sighs, gripping the file folder tighter, while Leslie takes the empty bag from him. "No. But we weren't really that close."

She nods, before turning and starting to walk away.

"Ulani," Leslie calls out and watches as the intense woman turns back around. "Hey, do you by any chance know how to make Steve's pancakes? The ones with the bananas and--"

"The peanut butter," Ben finishes, looking hopeful for the first time all day.

"Yeah," she answers and it's obvious she's getting a little impatient. "Fine, I can email you the recipe, Ben. But I've got to go now."

* * * * *

That night, they're back in Sam's room, sitting on the floor against the wall with the folder's contents spread out in front of them.

"Oh," Ben smiles as he unfolds an old newspaper page. "This was my first campaign interview. I can't believe he kept all of this."

"He was proud of you."

"It didn't seem like it at the time, especially when I got kicked out of office. Do you know he grounded me after? Well, him and my mom. They agreed on that," Ben says, before picking up another photo from the pile. "This was me on inauguration day, on the steps we walked by the other night."

Ben takes each photo or clipping and explains everything to her, even the picture of him and Cindy Eckert in his mayoral office, posing behind his desk. The newspaper caption reads _: Boy Mayor in his Lair with a Maiden Fair, Quite a Pair!_

When they finish with everything, she helps Ben carefully put it all back in the folder. He puts that in his bag and then comes back and sits down next to her again. He sighs.

"So. Um, we should...maybe talk."

"Okay. About what?"

Ben's eyes widen and he gestures towards the bed. The small bed where they've had sex five times in the last three days. The bed of a seven-year-old who is presumably going to want his room back soon.

The room where she gave Ben a post-funeral blow job just a couple of hours ago, while dozens of guests were still downstairs offering condolences and eating salads. His fingers had wound through her hair and he tasted salty and comfortingly familiar as she slid her mouth around him and cupped his balls.

"Oh. You mean about _that_ ," she guesses, widening her eyes and nodding.

Of course, Leslie gets the association between mortality and loss and sex, and maybe that's all this is, Ben dealing with his grief the only way he can, but she doesn't think that's the case. It feels like it's more than that.

It feels like love and connection and intimacy and she doesn't think it's just her. And she also really doesn't want it to end. Not again.

"Yeah. Look," Ben continues carefully, each word a bit tentative, his eyes growing shiny as he speaks. "It's okay. I understand. I know this was just because of my dad dying and everything and being here together, where we can do whatever we want without any repercussions, but when we get back to Pawnee, you're still running for City--"

The words are out of her mouth and she's interrupting him before she can even think of pulling it all back in, not that she would want to. "I've been thinking about that—let's just say _screw it_ and do this thing for real."

"Wait. What?"

"Us. Let's just be an _us_ again but for real this time, out in the open, no sneaking around. I miss you like crazy. I think about you all the time. So let's be together. Pretending we don't still have feelings for each other is dumb. And dishonest. And I hate it."

"But what about your campaign? We broke up because you wanted to run for office. How do you imagine we do this?"

"I don't know. But when Chris told me what happened, all I could think about was coming here and being with you. I didn't even think to call William or Elizabeth and tell them I was going to be gone until I got off the plane in Minneapolis."

He's still staring at her with his dark, watery eyes, his expression still a bit on the fence, like he doesn't quite believe what he's hearing. Not yet.

But he's also not saying no and he's definitely inching closer to her on the floor.

"Ben, I don't want the romantic part of our relationship to be over. And if that's a problem for the voters of Pawnee, that you just happen to have a supervisory role over me at City Hall well, then that's too bad. We weren't doing anything wrong. We'll disclose our relationship."

"But what about--"

She doesn't let him jump in. Not yet. She needs to get this all out. "I'm still going to run and I want to be with you when I do it. We'll make it work. And that's how I feel, how do you feel?" Leslie has to close her eyes when she's finally done, because she can't take the thought of him looking at her with anything other than enthusiasm.

When it comes seconds later, his response is in the form of a hot, determined kiss and it takes her breath away.


End file.
